


Love on the Brain

by serohtonin



Series: Water Under the Bridge [1]
Category: Glee RPF
Genre: Alcohol, Anal Sex, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canonical Character Death, Grief/Mourning, Internalized Homophobia, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-19
Updated: 2017-01-19
Packaged: 2018-09-18 13:18:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9386945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serohtonin/pseuds/serohtonin
Summary: Chris can't stop thinking about what might have been if he said yes.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the song ["Love on the Brain"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gZQc5WGjUJU) by Rihanna (from which the title is taken; warning: some lyrics are NSFW) and Darren's recent rendition of David Bowie's ["Changes."](http://darrenandchrisnews.tumblr.com/post/155718660870/max-felder-new-york-ny-glees-darren-criss-on-ch) Set in January 2017 in New York City. Thanks to [klaineunite](http://klaineunite.tumblr.com/) and [goldenkaos22](http://goldenkaos22.tumblr.com/) from tumblr for looking this over for me! Much appreciated!
> 
> Disclaimer: Though inspired by real-life events, I'm not stating the relationships herein between Chris and Darren to be fact. This is a work of fiction. Also I don't own the rights to any of the songs or television shows mentioned. They belong to their respective owners.

Chris doesn’t know why he’s here by himself, in the back of a dimly lit bar in New York City, nursing his third bourbon. Okay he knows the answer to at least one of those: bourbon is one of Darren’s favorite drinks and it’s been about two years since they’ve seen each other. They didn’t exactly part on the best terms, which adds to the tortuous burn even more, especially because the color of the liquor is an almost perfect match to the color of Darren’s eyes. Chris remembers how they glowed in the darkness of his bedroom the last time they were together.

They had hooked up a few times on and off throughout the years, usually when drunken cuddles morphed into quiet confessions that something more lingered between them. Then they could no longer hold back their kisses and their touches became more purposeful until they reached a sweet release together. But they always vowed to remain friends, given that the reality of a relationship would be far too complicated. They talked for the last time in April 2015, at a live panel where the cast watched the series finale of Glee and shared some memories. After the interview, Chris and Darren found each other and reminisced over what a crazy, unique, and beautiful experience they had bringing Kurt and Blaine to life. But talking about their onscreen love led to a discussion of missed chances between them personally, which led to Chris inviting Darren back to his place. They had sex that night, Darren panting Chris’ name and promising words of love and a future relationship that Chris knew Darren could never deliver on.

Even now, when he shares a bed with someone else, those eyes and private whispers still haunt him. One particular night this past December, he couldn’t sleep and picked up his phone, hoping to get Darren out of his head, which meant browsing social media and liking meaningless posts. However, against his better judgment, he never unfollowed Darren and caught a picture of him with some woman who had always been on the outskirts of his life. They looked so cute together and Darren was smiling. He wondered if Darren was as happy as he looked, with his unkempt scruff that Chris longed to trace with his fingers and glasses that Chris always said made him look like a hipster. Darren would stick his tongue out at him then and told him to quit being a bully. He grins thinking about it, even though it also feels like a stab in the heart.

He needed a chance to see that smile again, in person, so when he found out that Darren would be attending a David Bowie tribute in New York, he impulsively booked a flight to the city, along with a hotel stay. Since Glee ended, Darren has been in one city or another, almost always away from Chris. It’s too much of a risk to see him when he’s in L.A. and their other local friends might be around. It’s safer to be in the last place that Darren will suspect so he can be relatively anonymous and slip out unnoticed. He just wants to see him, even if it’s from afar. 

He also can’t lie that a small piece of him wonders what it would be like not to live in the shadows of Darren’s life, to stand next to him in the crowd as he watches the performances dedicated to a person that he knows Darren admires greatly (Darren had told him so when he ranted about his musical influences on a late night location shoot in Bryant Park, which bled into a chat in Darren’s hotel room, which led to them passing out in bed together). Once Darren explained to him about Bowie, Chris declared that he admired the man for being unabashed about his sexuality and defying societal norms. Darren stared at him and got quiet for a moment after that. Then he shut off the light and asked Chris to spend the night. Darren held him tight and kissed the back of his neck but nothing more happened on that occasion.

Chris’ heart clenches with the innocent memory that happened long before he left Darren, and himself, broken. That trip to New York was a vacation from their lives where they could indulge the part of them that wasn’t all twisted up in their physical attraction. They could pretend to be people who fell asleep together without the need for anything more than the comfort of companionship. Chris thinks that they could still be those people if they led different lives where Chris had taken Darren up on the offer to be with him, and where Darren portrayed himself as honest and vulnerable as Chris had seen him, not how he’s acted in the public recently.

Maybe that’s what bothers Chris the most: how much Darren has changed since they last saw one another. Chris has mostly kept up with Darren’s career and is pleased that Darren has been doing what he loves, including his very own music festival and two shots at Hedwig, a beloved character of his adolescence. However, he’s also witnessed the light in Darren’s eyes fading at times, how weathered his voice sounds when Chris catches snippets of interviews, and his notable hot and cold support of LGBTQ causes. He never imagined Darren as a fair weather ally who had fears about appearing anything other than straight. Perhaps it hits too close on his past relationship with Chris, or outside influences have persuaded him to behave that way. Perhaps he isn’t an ally at all but he secretly identifies as much more than that. Chris doesn’t know because as transparent as Darren could be, he still remains an enigma.

Chris realizes that Darren is even more of an enigma now that time and distance has separated them. Thus he’s stuck downing bourbon and hiding in plain sight in a crowd that’s not particularly his type. Darren definitely fits here though, where everyone is packed in close and engaged in conversations about rock and roll or random small talk. That’s not Chris and that’s why he couldn’t let Darren stay; no matter how much they clicked personally, they could never really fit into each other’s worlds.

Still, Chris can’t stay away because he’s here, desperate for a glimpse of Darren like the outsider he’s forced himself to be. The show itself is pretty entertaining and Chris gets lost in the extensive catalog of hits that he recalls from that conversation so many years ago. He’s got a good buzz going by the time he looks up to find that Darren has taken the stage, singing “Changes” ironically enough.

He opens the song in his lower register, masculine, deep and channeling his inner rock star. Suddenly Chris can’t breathe. 

_“I still don’t know what I was waiting for,”_ he sings. _“And my time was running wild.”_

Chris remembers the crazy nights that they were on tour, the energy crackling between them as they snuck into each other’s hotel rooms under the guise of discussing their skit for the next show. However, more often than not, they made out or sometimes did much more than that. Darren would give him this look, those damn eyes shining bright with more than lust, but only for a second before it changed to a baser need.

_“A million dead end streets,”_ Darren goes on. _“Every time I thought I got it made, it seemed the taste was not so sweet.”_

Chris recalls the heartbreak of how they both agreed to stay friends after the tour despite how close they had become. It was better, they told each other, to look back and feel fondness rather than attempting anything else that could sour the rest of the time they had to work together. There wasn’t any resentment that way, Darren explained casually. Chris agreed although he didn’t want to. Back then, it seemed reasonable even if Chris carried a torch that burned so bright it drew Darren back to him over the years.

He also thinks of how Darren showed up at his door a couple of years later, wide-eyed with the prospect of headlining his own tour, and how after the Los Angeles show, he had found himself at Chris’ door again, still high on the music and high on something else. He cried into Chris’ embrace about having to change his creative image and stand by songs that weren’t him. Chris realizes that Darren is only doing more of that now, except it has seeped into his public persona so much that Chris can't tell who the real Darren is anymore. 

_“So I turn myself to face me, but I never caught a glimpse,”_ Darren belts, _“Of how the others must see the faker. I’m much too fast to take that test.”_

The band joins Darren louder for the chorus and Chris gets lost in thought. He wonders if Darren recognizes himself lately. He knows that Darren used to fear blending in and compromising his integrity. But recently he seems to have done just that, in part by downplaying the importance of his own character’s queerness at an event supporting LGBTQ youth. He wasn’t with Darren then so he doesn’t know if Darren struggled the same way. Chris knows it’s his own fault that he couldn’t support Darren then, as he had said goodbye long before that, but he orders another bourbon and doesn’t dwell on it any further.

Darren croons on and Chris tries not to listen, except Darren is so captivating, commanding the stage like he always does and Chris can’t look away. He downs his drink and nearly spits it out when he recognizes that Darren flubs a lyric. Though he doesn’t let that stop him, ever the consummate performer that he is. Chris loves how Darren gives it his all every single time, even when he screws up. He always puts it back together with confidence, sometimes real and sometimes not so much. Chris has also seen that truthful, broken side where Darren harps on his mistakes afterward and Chris had to kiss him, if only to make him forget.

The chorus about changes repeats itself and Chris realizes he’ll probably never be able to do that again. Darren and the musicians accompanying him sing the rest but Chris can’t bring himself to listen, except for a lyric near the end, _“Pretty soon now, you’re gonna get older.”_ It rings true and tugs at his heart, the nostalgia trip in his head far too much to bear. 

This was a terrible idea, he thinks, and orders one more drink when Darren departs from the stage. He swallows it down quickly and closes his tab before heading out into the brisk January air of the city. He hails a taxi, not bothering to call the driver he usually uses when he’s here on business. He asks to go back to his hotel, his stomach roiling as he remembers the gorgeous scruff on Darren’s face, how at home he looked on stage and the absence of any inner turmoil. Darren is a performer so Chris couldn’t read whether or not he’s been okay. He couldn’t detect the subtle nuances in the planes of his face, like he could before, another sign of the distance between them. He aches to go back and get an answer to the tough question he came here to ask: whether or not Darren is happy. He’s afraid of what he might do, given either response so he doesn’t turn around and stays in the cab until he reaches his destination.

He tips the driver generously and doesn’t care if he was recognized; he (or more likely Alla, his publicist) can deal with that later. He goes back to his room and raids the mini bar, swallowing down the scotch in one swig. The pounding in his head doesn’t quell the pounding in his heart or his curiosity about Darren. Still he lies spread out on the bed and drinks more bourbon, a cheap watered down version of the one from the bar. Then he waits and waits, and waits some more, Darren’s face from their last night together flashing in his mind. Before he can contemplate his actions any further, he’s texting Darren and hoping that his contact information still exists in Darren’s phone.

He starts out with a simple, _Hey._

To his surprise, the reply follows instantly without any mention of their last encounter.

_Hey, it’s been a while. To what do I owe the pleasure?_

Chris types back, _Just been thinking about you. Wanted to know how you were doing._

Darren responds, _Can’t complain too much. I’m in NYC doing a gig. You know, the usual._

_I bet you were great. You always are,_ Chris admits without giving away his presence at the show.

_You should come see me play some time. It’s been way too long. Maybe when I’m back out in your neck of the woods,_ Darren offers.

_Yeah, maybe,_ Chris texts and debates ending the conversation like this, like he has with most of his former co-workers who have suggested they should hang out when they’re both free.

But after a few more minutes and no reply from Darren, he adds, _I’m here in NYC. I can come see you play now._

He still omits that he already saw Darren and pretends to assume that Darren might be going back on stage to sing.

_No fucking way. Dude, that’s so awesome! What brings you here?_

Chris decides not to answer his question and eventually sees Darren typing out another message that shows up on his screen.

_Anyway, I’m not playing anymore. It was only one song. A Bowie tribute concert with a bunch of people. Would love it if you could stop by._

His filter disappearing, Chris responds, _Are you still living at that place you told me about?_

Darren left him a voicemail when he was performing on Broadway last year, letting him know the address of his apartment in case he actually wanted to stop by if he still cared. Chris did care but he never came, not wanting to relive the hurt of rejecting him. He had to learn how to live without Darren but he realizes now that he can’t. 

He wonders for a long moment if Darren will dignify him with a legitimate answer or ignore him the way he deserves. But he guesses Darren can’t stay away either because the next text from him reads:

_Yeah, I can be home in a little while if you want to come there instead. Give me half an hour?_

Chris nods and then remembers Darren can’t see him before he lets him know that that’s fine. He can come by then. He knows it’s late and that he’s drunk on alcohol, memories, and Darren’s aura that permeates him every time they’re in the same room. This could hurt him more than it already has but he doesn’t care. Darren is actually speaking to him and agreeing to meet. 

He splashes his face in the bathroom sink and drinks a whole bottle of water in an attempt to sober up a bit. Then he waits on the curb for a few minutes, attempting to hail a taxi. When one finally arrives, he tells the driver the address of Darren’s apartment building, a thrill rushing through him that he’ll see Darren up close. That alone is worth all the risks he’s taken showing up in this city.

While he sits in late night traffic on the FDR, Darren texts again.

_You’re good btw. In case security doesn’t recognize you, I cleared it with them and you can come right up._

Chris’ heart warms at how Darren is allowing him in, given how much time has passed and the undoubtedly complicated feelings he might still harbor toward him.

_Thank you,_ Chris tells him.

_No problem,_ Darren replies. 

Chris laughs out loud as he pictures Darren shrugging as though it’s no big deal. When the driver doesn’t react, Chris figures he’s probably seen much weirder events occur in his back seat.

He doesn’t think too much about that and instead focuses on how he’s visiting Darren for the first time ever at his place in New York. Waves of anxiety and fear course through him but also that ever-present excitement that he always feels around Darren. He doesn’t know what to expect or what he’ll say when he gets there but he’s under no illusion that it could end badly. If Darren tells him off and slams the door in his face, he’ll accept it. He’d deserve it after he turned Darren down without a full explanation or an apology. He’s not fully prepared for the alternative, where Darren will answer the door and Chris will finally know if he’s satisfied without him.

In any case, the driver stops and tells him he’s at the building. Chris braces himself as he pays and exits the vehicle, staring at the entryway to the brownstone as if it were a mountain peak too difficult to climb. But Chris prefers not to back down from a challenge so he climbs the steps and enters the building. Then he waves at the guard sitting behind a desk in the lobby. When Chris tells him the apartment number, the man gives him a thumbs up and lets him know that Darren has been expecting him. He enters the elevator with the same mix of emotions as before but tamps them down as much as he can so he doesn’t burst out inappropriately at Darren. 

He doesn’t. All he can do once he knocks is take a deep breath and when Darren opens the door, his mouth drops open at the sight. Darren is wearing the blue jeans he had on earlier and a long sleeve gray shirt that looks soft if Chris were allowed to rest his head against it. His hair is a mess and slightly longer than the last time Chris had seen him in person. However, Chris still wants to run his fingers through those curls and make them messier like he did then, when Darren was inside him and while they relished in the afterglow. Unlike last time, however, he’s sporting a near full-on beard and mustache, that Chris would complain tickled him whenever they kissed or touched during their hiatus periods on the show. Darren would laugh and ignore it because he knew Chris enjoyed it anyway. He can’t stop himself from thinking about it now that Darren is front of him again after so long.

Chris is silent for a long moment and Darren greets him with a bright grin.

“Hey, man! What’s up? Long time, no see!”

“Yeah. Hey to you too, Dare. Sorry I’ve been so busy,” he answers as though they’re simply old friends. It’s almost like they hadn’t shared a deep emotional bond, like Chris hadn’t absolutely wrecked Darren’s heart, and perhaps his own, when he told him they couldn’t be together.

“It’s cool. I totally get it.” Darren laughs. “C’mere.”

Darren opens his arms and Chris surrenders, tightening his arms around Darren’s shoulders while Darren wraps his arms around the small of Chris’ back in a move practiced from a lifetime ago, both onscreen and off. Chris inhales near the neckline of Darren’s shirt, which smells vaguely of laundry detergent, cigarettes and the cologne that Chris had recommended to him several years ago. It feels so familiar and comfortable that Chris wants to stay there forever.

“Missed you,” Darren murmurs into his ear. “It really has been too long.”

“Missed you too,” Chris confesses. “When I said I was sorry, I meant it.”

“I know,” Darren says, his lips brushing Chris’ temple before he pulls away. “Me too. I should have got my shit together sooner. We both should have.”

“We should have done a lot of things.” Chris chuckles wryly. 

“Right.” One side of Darren’s mouth turns up as he searches Chris’ face. He doesn’t add anything else though, except for an offer to come in and sit. “Do you, um, do you want a drink?”

“Water would be good. Thank you,” Chris answers as he makes his way over to the couch that has fluffy cushions but doesn’t seem very worn. He wonders how long Darren has had it and if he uses it often. He realizes that he would know this if he had ever stopped by.

“Sure,” Darren replies, walking over to his refrigerator and grabbing two bottles of water. He offers one to Chris. “I know I could use some after the night I’ve had. I indulged in one too many because I haven’t had a lot of opportunities for that. Work and shit, y’know?”

Chris opens the bottle and nods after he takes a sip. He swallows and echoes Darren’s earlier sentiment. “I totally get it. Sometimes it’s difficult to just relax and have fun when you have to be on all the time.”

Darren swigs from his water bottle as well and sits besides him, but not too closely. “But you have make time for fun too. That’s important. All work and no play and all that jazz.”

“True. That’s part of the reason I came here.”

“Oh, really?” Darren wonders bemusedly. “Tell me more. Are you here on a weekend getaway?”

“Sort of.” He steels himself with another drink from his water and then puts the bottle down on the table in front of them. “I actually came to see you.”

Darren sets his water down as well, uncharacteristically quiet for a minute, but then he speaks. “Wow. So, um, mission accomplished, I guess, right?”

“Yes. Well, no. Sort of. I need to tell you that I saw you, at the bar earlier. I was in the back watching your performance. You were spectacular as always.”

“Chris, why didn’t you come find me?” Darren asks, genuine curiosity in his voice.

Chris sighs, looking away from Darren. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted to see me, given how I left things. I just wanted to see if you were okay.”

“You came all this way to watch me from afar? You didn’t have to do that. I always want to see you. Always.” Darren moves closer, their knees knocking together and the outside of their thighs touching. “I still care about you. I don’t want you to be a stranger.”

Relief floods him, although Darren hasn’t addressed whether or not he’s okay. He cares and that’s enough. 

“But you--Your offer before you went off to Broadway. I didn’t take it. I hurt you,” Chris points out.

“Yeah, you did hurt me. You ripped my heart out when you turned me down. But that doesn’t mean I stopped fucking caring about you.” One of Darren’s hand hovers over Chris’ knee, where they’re touching, unsure of what to do. “I--I wanted to reach out when your mom passed away, but you were dealing with a lot and by the time I heard, I didn’t want to overwhelm you and complicate everything.”

“I felt the same tonight. I mean, I didn’t want to complicate everything for you either. But thank you. It’s still not really okay but it is what it is. I don’t cry every day anymore.” His eyes water, contradicting his statement. “Ugh, sorry.”

Darren does rest his hand on Chris’ knee then and rubs his palm there soothingly. “Don’t be sorry, not for that. It’s your mom. I can’t even imagine--I know how much you loved her. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.”

The touch is warm and welcome and Chris lets tears slip down his cheeks. “I get it. I probably would have reacted the same way. I would have been angry at you if you had refused me. I’m still angry at myself for it.”

“Well, you’re here now, okay? That’s what matters.”

“Why are you being so understanding, Dare?”

“Because I really did miss you and life’s too fucking short to hold grudges, as we’ve both learned.”

Chris’ hand covers the one that’s on his knee and Darren’s other hand wipes the wetness from his cheeks. Then the question that keeps popping up in Chris’ head suddenly falls from his lips. 

“Are you--Are you happy, Darren?”

He grins tightly. “I’m working on it.”

“Me too. Things couldn’t be better professionally. And I’m--I’m with--” He can’t bring himself to finish that he’s dating someone, although they both know it. Instead he continues. “It still feels like something is missing. Maybe I’ve wondered what might have been if I said yes to you. Maybe that’s what brought me here, back to you.”

The grin disappears from Darren’s face and the hand that was on Chris’ cheeks trails down to his jaw. “Chris, so much has changed.”

“I know. But it really hasn’t because we’re back here again, aren’t we?”

“Guess letting go was never really an option, was it?”

“We always pretended it was,” Chris finds himself saying, no longer wanting to hold back. “I don’t want to pretend, Dare. Not anymore.”

Darren’s thumb traces Chris’ jaw. “Me neither, babe.”

The sentiment shocks Chris, as Darren only ever draws it out when he’s drunk or when they’re in bed together. Still, Chris recovers enough to ask another question.

“What about--?” He starts, wondering about any other attachments that Darren might have.

“Don’t worry about that. It’s just you and me. It always has been. Even with trying to keep it casual and with you walking out on me--” Darren sighs. “God, after all this time, it’s always been you.”

“It’s always been you, too, Dare. Can we--? I just want to--Please let me,” Chris begs, though he’s not exactly sure for what.

Still, Darren accepts him. “Yes, whatever you want, Chris. I’ll give you whatever the fuck you want. I don’t want you to leave yet.”

“Then I’ll stay. I don’t care what happens next. I--”

Darren interrupts him with a harsh press of his lips to Chris’ own. Chris thought he couldn’t breathe when he heard Darren’s voice earlier and again when he stood at Darren’s door, but this can’t even compare. He’s drowning in the taste that he’s missed for nearly two years due to his own carelessness. If this is his last chance, he’s not going to come up for air anytime soon.

So he kisses harder, both hands cupping Darren’s jaw, the facial hair gruff against his hands. Darren’s hands grip his waist and squeeze there, like so many times before. It urges Chris to slip his tongue across the seam of Darren’s lips and Darren allows it.

Darren quickly snakes his hands under Chris’ shirt while Chris runs his fingers over Darren’s jaw, like he’s been craving all night. Darren opens his mouth wider but then he breaks away with a groan.

“Shit, babe, missed you so fucking much,” Darren tells him, his hands still on Chris’ skin. “Missed this.”

“Me too.”

“So what do you really want?” 

Chris licks his lips and stares at Darren’s mouth. “I should be asking you that. I have a lot to make up for.”

“Don’t--Don’t even do that, Chris. We’re both here now. Let’s not dwell.”

“I want you, however you’ll have me,” Chris explains. “I’m already yours, Dare.”

“I’m yours too,” Darren declares, diving back in to kiss Chris once more. 

In a flash, Chris is flat on his back, with Darren mouthing down his neck and stopping at his favorite spot, a raised scar that Chris used to be self-conscious about (it was part of the reason he became obsessed with scarves). Darren’s love for it showed him he didn’t have to hide his imperfections but could derive pleasure from them.

Chris moans as Darren sucks there, determined to leave a mark. Arousal stirs low in his belly as pleasure melds with slight pain, Darren adding teeth to his ministrations while his hands wander up Chris’ shirt. Chris’ own hands trace over Darren’s spine to his shoulder blades, running over the prominent muscles there and then running back down. Darren’s lips drag down to Chris’ shirt collar as he catches his breath and grinds against him. Chris can tell he’s already half-hard so he lifts up, meeting Darren’s movements and causing their lower halves to slot together perfectly.

“Yeah, babe. That’s nice,” Darren encourages. “M-more of that.”

“Now we’re getting somewhere.” Chris laughs and brushes his lips against Darren’s beard. 

While Darren shivers, Chris lets his hands drift down to Darren’s ass, and Darren rolls his hip again, rubbing against Chris’ erection, straining in his pants.

“Fuck,” Darren curses. “Been too long. Wanna touch you.” His hands play with the hem of Chris’ shirt, somewhere up around his nipples from Darren’s exploration.

“You are,” Chris teases. “Just do it already.”

Darren smirks and lifts Chris’ shirt over his head. Then he goes quiet, those golden eyes no longer haunting him but filled with want as they roam across his bare chest.

“Fine. Then I’ll do more,” Darren counters before he kisses one of Chris’ shoulders, moves down to a nipple, and then a spot over Chris’ heart. Chris clutches at the back of Darren’s head, trying to make him stay there but Darren switches to the other nipple, licking and sucking until Chris cries out. Darren ghosts his lips down to Chris’ stomach, tracing around Chris’ belly button painfully slowly. After that, he pulls Chris’ hand away from his head and takes Chris’ hand in his own. 

Chris’ hips buck off the couch as Darren’s mouth gets closer to the waistband of his jeans. Darren interlaces their fingers and presses them down against Chris’ hip in an attempt to keep him still. Darren licks right above the fly of Chris’ jeans and then looks up at Chris through his eyelashes, taking Chris’ breath away once more.

“Hey,” Darren remarks casually with a grin.

“Hi.”

“So do you want to, um, move this some place more comfortable?”

Chris leans up on his elbows and raises an eyebrow at him. “It seems to be going pretty well here.”

Darren slinks back up Chris’ body and pushes him down onto the couch again. Then he whispers low in Chris’ ear. “See, I figured that. But I can’t do everything I want in here, if you catch my drift.”

Chris’ cock throbs in his pants as he remembers Darren’s fingers lovingly working him open and the warm weight of Darren on top of him as he pressed inside. If this is what Darren wants, Chris will gladly give it to him. He’d give Darren anything that allows him to stay in his life longer, even if it’s only like this.

“I see.” Chris exhales. “Works for me.”

Darren kisses his cheek, lifts himself off the couch and holds tight to Chris’ hand. “C’mon then, babe. What are we waiting for?”

Chris stands up to join him, wondering the same thing as they walk down Darren’s hallway. Why did he wait so long to pursue Darren if he could have had this all along? Why did he say no to even trying?

All these questions disappear when he stands in the middle of Darren’s room and watches him take off his shirt. He’s seen pictures around social media from when Darren was shirtless on stage, immersed in the role of Hedwig, but those can’t even compare to the man before him. Darren’s arms are built with firm muscles, strong enough to carry him or throw him against a wall. His chest is slightly more defined as well as his abs, a smattering of hair covering them. Chris wants to map every beautiful ridge of that torso with his hands and mouth before he trails further down to familiarize himself with every other part again.

As Darren stalks closer, Chris bites his lip and steps backward until he approaches the wall. Darren crowds him, his hands low on Chris’ hips.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” Darren quietly commands.

Chris gulps, keenly aware of his own erection. “You’ve changed a lot. You’ve been working out more.”

“Mhmm. It was for a job but then I kept up with it. I’m kind of a nut about it now,” Darren states, his breath hot on Chris’ neck.

“You’ve been taking care of yourself well, Dare,” Chris compliments, his fingers cautious against Darren’s lower abdomen. “It shows.”

“Thanks, babe.” Darren licks at his favorite spot on Chris’ neck. “That’s to show my appreciation. You’re not so bad looking yourself. Even more gorgeous than I remember.”

Chris moans, not caring if Darren’s made a mark on him. Instead he arches into it as Darren presses him against the wall, feeling every inch of him even through his jeans. But there are too many layers between them so Chris dips his fingers underneath the waistband of Darren’s pants. Darren pulls away with a curse as Chris’ fingers roam over the curve of his ass.

“Relax, we’ll get there,” Darren assures him. “We have as long as you want. I’m not expecting anyone else.”

Darren’s words hopefully imply that he’s welcome to spend the night, the last possible outcome that Chris ever expected from showing up here. He’s amazed that Darren even allowed him inside his apartment at all. So he takes what he can get, squeezing Darren’s ass and parting his legs for Darren to wedge a thigh between them. The pressure is so perfect that Chris thinks he could reach his release just from this. But as is always the case with Darren, he wants more.

“Fuck, Dare, can you, um--Can we--?”

Darren pulls away enough to look at him with burning hazel eyes. “What? What do you want, Chris?”

“More of you,” Chris answers, hoping Darren understands. “If that’s what you want. You know, like you said before.”

“Oh God, yes. I mean, I might not last long at this point.” Darren laughs nervously. “But let’s do it, babe. You are, uh, you’ve been safe, right?”

Chris faces the stark reminder that they’ve been apart long enough that Darren has to ask and isn’t aware of the intimate details of his sex life anymore.

“Yeah. Yes, I have. I haven’t been with a lot of people but I’ve been careful,” Chris informs him.

“Good. Me too, because I’m so fucking ready to fuck you senseless into that mattress.”

Chris groans at the thought of Darren fucking him fast and rough, like he had done once in Chris’ trailer on set. It was rushed and dangerous, sneaking around at work on their dinner break. But both of them had gone too long without each other and they couldn’t wait until they were finished. Chris had been sore for days without their normal careful preparation but he didn’t care. He wanted to feel it and remember every time Darren looked at him from across the room. He wants to have that again, especially since he won’t be near him again until who knows how long.

Darren brings him back to reality when he grinds against him one more time. Then Chris reluctantly slips his fingers out of Darren’s pants, only to take his hand.

Darren leads him to the bed and lays him down before he strips off his pants and boxers. Chris stares at all of that tanned skin, exposed and on display, only for him, always for him. He studies those powerful thighs, remembering how they’ve wrapped around him whenever he’s buried himself in the tight, perfect heat of Darren’s body, and that thick cock that Chris has had down his throat and inside him. Darren has given every part of himself to Chris and Chris has always gladly taken. Now, Chris is going to open himself up in return, hoping that it’s enough to make up for how he treated Darren before.

From the way that Darren’s eyes linger over every inch after he peels Chris’ pants and underwear down his thighs, it definitely does something. Chris bends his knees and plants his feet flat on the mattress, assuming that Darren wants to look him in the face. But he still wonders as Darren kneels between his legs and his rough, calloused fingertips graze Chris’ thighs.

“Do you wanna--Is this okay?” Chris asks, lifting his head to look at Darren and gauge his reaction.

“Absolutely. I want to see you, babe.”

Chris swallows as he hold Darren’s gaze, wanting to maintain their connection in every possible way. After their casual, touch and go relationship and Chris’ refusal to take it further, Chris’ heart skips at the notion that Darren still wants to look at him, let alone be intimate with him.

“Oh. Okay,” Chris responds with a tentative smile.

“You alright with that?” Darren questions as he draws circles on Chris’ inner thighs.

Chris’ grin is more confident when he says, “Absolutely. I want to see you too.” 

Darren’s answering grin lights up his entire face, unlike any picture of him that Chris has seen in the past two years. When he had asked Darren if he was happy and got an answer that indicated he was working on it, Chris takes comfort that in this moment, that isn’t the case. Darren isn’t pretending or working on anything. Maybe he’s changed a bit but here, with Chris, he’s his most genuine self. Chris couldn’t ask for anything more.

When Darren leans over him to reach into his nightstand drawer, their cocks brush against each other and Chris shivers. Darren throws a condom onto the bed beside them and pulls back, lube in hand. Chris notices that Darren’s smile hasn’t faded as he flicks open the bottle, squeezes some of the substance onto his fingertips, and then rubs his thumb against his first two fingers.

Chris curls his hand around the base of his own cock, unable to wait any longer. But within moments, Darren presses a finger past the first ring of muscle.

“Unhh, fuck,” Chris curses as he strokes himself with a dry hand and not nearly enough friction. “Don’t--don’t go slow. And not too much. Want it rough. Want to feel you.”

He presses in further. “Yeah?”

“Mhmm. Been too long. Want you so much.”

Darren’s finger slides all the way in, almost to where Chris needs him. “You have me. Want you too, babe.” He crooks his finger inside Chris and pulls out almost fully before pushing back in. “I’ve got you, okay?”

Chris flops back onto the mattress and urges him on. “Yeah. C’mon. I can take more.”

“I know but I don’t want to hurt you. Still want to be careful,” Darren explains, slowly moving his finger.

Chris’ hand moves faster over his cock. “Don’t care. Give it to me.” 

Darren licks his lips, his eyes darkening as they focus on where his finger is moving. “Okay.”

He quickly adds another finger, causing Chris to wince.

“Ahh, shit,” Chris cries out. “K-keep going.”

He moves quicker, his fingers driving in and out of Chris at a lightning pace. But it’s still not enough. Chris sighs when he pulls out, leaving him empty. Then Darren adds more lube and a third finger, stretching him wider and hitting that perfect spot inside.

Chris bears down on him and clenches, already feeling full. “Only--Only a little. Need you to fuck me. Need you.”

“Relax, babe.” He takes Chris’ free hand, never stopping the movement of his other hand. “I told you I got you. I meant it.”

Chris believes him and squeezes his hand in return, the fist around his cock stilling. After one last time, Darren pauses, letting out a harsh exhale as his fingers slip out. When Chris lifts his head to look at him, he finds that Darren’s hand is trembling.

Then Darren lets go of Chris’ other hand and wipes his own dirty one on the sheet. He picks up the condom, trying several times to rip it open until he’s finally successful and slides it over his dick.

“You okay?” Chris wonders.

Darren has a hand around the base of his own cock, his eyes flickering down between Chris’ legs. “I will be.”

Chris laughs quietly before he gropes for the bottle of lube and squeezes a little into his hand. Then he puts it down and strokes himself once again. 

“Damn,” Darren exclaims. “You’re still so fucking beautiful.”

Without warning, the head of Darren’s cock pushes inside and his fingers dig into Chris’ hips. A few more seconds pass and Darren presses in further.

“Ohh, ohh,” Chris groans and strokes himself harder, his hand gliding easier. He nearly tears up, but this time for a happy reason. He had forgotten how perfect Darren had felt inside him and how Darren utterly consumed him like this. He had rarely let anyone else in since Darren and now he remembers why. No one could possibly compare.

Darren pushes in more and more, until he’s fully inside, and lets out another deep breath near Chris’ ear.

“Stop,” Darren grunts out. “Let me touch you. Please.”

Chris obliges him, draping his hands over Darren’s shoulders, and waits several long moments as they both adjust. Darren nearly pulls out of him, his head catching on the rim, and then pushes back in a couple of times before he creates a rhythm, driving out and thrusting in as his hand wraps around Chris’ cock.

Darren’s pace is relentless, his balls slapping against Chris’ ass noisily every time he fucks in. Chris is already so close that it hurts, regretting that he asked for fast and rough because it’ll be over far too soon and he doesn’t ever want to stop. Darren’s thumb swipes across the head of his cock, precum dripping from it.

“Yeah, baby, fuck. You feel so fucking good,” Darren babbles. “Always so good for me.”

Chris only pants in response, his own hands clutching Darren’s curls tight, the way he knows Darren likes. Darren groans and fucks him harder, his fist moving expertly over Chris.

Chris’ fingers trail down Darren’s back, tracing the curve of his spine once more. Then he dips down to the crack of his ass and across his cheeks. He travels up and down that path a few more times until he reaches low enough to brush a thumb over Darren’s asshole.

He’s rewarded with a growl and Darren jerking him even faster.

“C’mon, babe,” Darren pleads. “Love you like this. Need to see you.”

Darren keeps fucking him and lifts his head enough to look in Chris’ eyes. Chris blinks as Darren continues, but he forces himself to stare back until he can’t anymore. His eyes shut as he finally spills over Darren’s fist and whispers Darren’s name.

Darren works him through it until he softens, his hand falling away as he fucks into Chris’ sensitive, spent body. It hurts a little but Chris loves how Darren is taking what he needs from him, driving in a few more times and then stilling. Darren swears and calls out Chris’ name before he collapses on top of him. Chris’ fingers run back up Darren’s spine and he plays with the hair at the back of Darren’s head.

Darren’s voice breaks the silence first, appreciating his touch. “Mmm, feels nice. You remembered.”

Chris’ eyebrows furrow in confusion at first but he still answers. “Of course I did. I remember everything.”

Every reaction he’s ever elicited from Darren both in and out of the bedroom is etched into Chris’ memory, from the corny jokes that Darren laughs at to how he’s a sucker for any gesture involving his hair. He’s tried to forget during the droughts when he was without him, but he couldn’t. Remembering those details tore at his heart, even as he moved on with someone else. Despite his attempts, he knew he could never really let go.

Ironically, Darren does let go then, at least physically. He pulls out and rolls off of him, turning to the side for a moment before he comes back and drapes a leg between Chris’ own.

He kisses Chris’ chest, near a nipple. “Me too, Chris. Me too.” 

“I’m sorry,” Chris apologizes again. “I should’ve said yes. I know that now. I thought it would be easier for us to stay in the past. I didn’t think we could get it together.”

“Maybe you were right back then. We didn’t know where we were going. With me in New York and you in California, we might have fizzled out.”

“You don’t really believe that.”

Darren chuckles. “No I don’t, because look where we are, babe. We always find our way back somehow. I mean, you flew across the fucking country to apologize after all this time. That really says something, you know?”

Chris lets the statements sink in before he answers. After nearly two years, jealousy and regret had hit him so hard that he couldn’t stop thinking about Darren and what he means to him. These feelings were so strong that he left home and traveled thousands of miles just to see him. Though he told himself it would be okay if he simply watched and stayed away, he knew he couldn’t. He needed Darren to know that he still cared and questioned his response to that years old proposal, even now. Maybe repairing this relationship means more to him than he thought. Maybe it’s love.

“Do you think we could try again?” Chris wonders. “Like get a do over?”

Darren rests his head on Chris’ shoulder and kisses his collarbone. His fingers dance across Chris’ stomach as he answers.

“Hmm, if there’s anything I’ve learned over the past year, and today, it’s that we shouldn’t rule out anything. Never say never and all that cliché bullshit. But like I said, so much has changed. I don’t know where I’ll be a week from now or a year from now. I don’t want to make any promises I can’t keep.”

“So do you want to or not?”

“It sounds really nice, but a lot of stuff needs to happen to give us a real shot, babe. I have some shit to work out, you know.”

“I know. I do too,” Chris returns and then kisses the top of Darren’s head. “I can wait. I’ve waited this long.”

Darren’s hand stops moving and rests across Chris’ hips. “Chris, I can’t ask you to do that. I don’t know how long that’ll take.”

“You’re not asking. I’m offering.”

Darren looks up at him with a smile. “Yeah?”

Chris nods. “Whatever you need.”

“God, I think--I think that could work.” His smile dims when he continues. “But I don’t want you to be alone, while you’re waiting for me. If you have to, you can--I know you have someone.”

He remembers the man he left behind in Los Angeles and wonders if he could return to him, if only to bide his time. It feels wrong to stay in that relationship when his mind and his heart lie elsewhere but it also feels wrong to simply abandon someone who’s cared for him through difficult times. He knows he can handle being alone if he leaves him, although he’ll have to break another person’s heart. However, he’ll do it if it means that that look of sadness in Darren’s eyes disappears.

“I’ll figure it out, Dare. We both will.”

Darren sits up, still halfway on top of him as he glances down Chris’ body. “Okay. Well, looks like we have some things figured out. We still work together pretty well. That hasn’t changed.”

“That’s never changed.”

“Huh, I think I’m gonna need some more experience, just to be sure,” Darren remarks cheekily before kissing Chris’ mouth once more.

After that, they ignore the world outside Darren’s bedroom in favor of exploring each other. Their lives have changed and so has Darren, but maybe not as much as Chris had thought. They still fit together like this, lazily kissing and touching, even if they still don’t quite fit in other ways.

However, maybe they’re getting there.


End file.
